Shiver
by PinkTribeChick
Summary: He knew one thing he'd succeeded in driving away the only girl he'd ever really loved. Loved . . . it sounded strange to him at first, though he knew it was true. He loved Hermione. He always had. She was it for him . . .
1. 1: Gone

**Shiver**

**By PinkTribeChick**

_"Don't you shiver . . . shiver . . . sing it loud and clear . . . I'll always be waiting for you . . . so you know how much I need ya . . . but you never even see me, do you . . . and is this my final chance of getting you . . ."_

~Coldplay~

  
_Disclaimer: I don't own these characters, nor do I claim to! They belong to J.K. Rowling! However, Magda is entirely my own creation, so please don't steal her! Thanks!_   
  
  
  
  
  


1: Gone

_"I drove myself insane wishing I could touch your face . . . but the truth remains . . . you're gone . . . you're gone . . . baby, you're gone . . . girl, you're gone . . ."_

~N'Sync~

"Hermione's leaving." The words reverberated in his mind over and over, bouncing against the dark recesses of his soul. He felt like he'd suddenly been stung by a very large bee, startled from the train of thought he'd previously been following. His mouth fell open, but there was no other expression on his face that gave any clues to how he was feeling about the news, if it had even registered in his head. There was no outward sign of the inward turmoil that the words had triggered, a long-suppressed web of emotions he'd almost forgotten were there. In the months and years that had passed, he'd gotten so used to it being there, so used to ignoring it, he'd not noticed this aching of heart he now felt, which was so much larger and more painful than the last time he'd paid any attention to it. "Ron?" Harry looked hard at his best friend, who just stood there in a trance, staring straight ahead at nothing.

Leaving? Why was she leaving? Ron's mind began to race at a jittery, frightened speed. Why hadn't she told him? What had he done? When had he forgotten that he felt this strongly for her? How in the world had he forgotten something like that? How could anyone forget their heart? Was that even possible? the seventeen-year-old asked himself. The intensity of affection he was feeling right then was overwhelming, but still not showing itself outwardly. He finally drew a breath and looked over to see Harry and Ginny still standing there. His younger sister had her head buried in his best friend's chest, sobbing. Slowly, the reality of things set in to Ron and a wildly stunned expression swept over his face.

"Wha . . . why . . . where's she going?" he finally managed to sputter out in a panicked tone. Harry hugged Ginny a little tighter as she began to cry harder, running his hand through her hair soothingly.

"She decided to take the internship at that wizardry school in New York. She just left for the train about ten minutes ago," Harry replied. Ron closed his eyes tightly, his mouth almost becoming a snarl as he shook his head and spoke again.

"WHAT?" came the exclaimed response. Ron's ears started turning pink, and he began to pace. "Why is she leaving?" Ginny turned to look at her older brother incredulously through her tears.

"She . . . she said . . . she-she . . . needed a change . . . of scenery . . . for a while. N-new . . . p-people," Ginny mumbled. Watching her brother pace frantically, knowing he was the reason that her best girlfriend left, she suddenly grew angry and lunged at him, pummeling his chest with her fists. "You arselick! What did you say to her?! YOU MADE HER LEAVE!!!" Ron looked at his sister in amazement over her sudden outburst, moving to block her fists.

"Ginny, Ginny!" Harry grabbed his girlfriend by the waist, pulling her away from Ron. She kicked and struggled a bit, trying to pry Harry's hands off her body.

"It's his fault! She wasn't going to go . . . what did you say to her, Ron?! What did you do to upset her this time?! You and that bullying, ice-hearted, Slytherin fanny-flange of a girlfriend of yours!" Ginny shouted before collapsing into tears again in Harry's arms.

Bullying? Magda? Those two words didn't sound quite right together. Ron looked at his baby sister in confusion, pinching the bridge of his nose as he started to pace again. He tried to think, tried to stay calm, but he was finding it hard. Memories of Hermione kept muddling his mind. Everything from when she was petrified to how amazing she'd looked at the Ball during their fourth year to the last time he'd spoken to her, yesterday afternoon.

He'd asked her for help with his arithmancy homework. The look she'd given him and the way she'd spoken in response . . . he honestly thought she could've killed him with her bare hands if he'd given her the chance . . .

_"'Mione . . . I know you're busy . . . but I could really use your help with my arithmancy homework. I've read the chapters in the book covering the lesson over and over . . . and I'm still not getting it," he said, sitting down beside her in the practically empty library. She looked up at him from her studies with an expression of disgust and pure hatred._

_"No!" she practically growled. "I won't help you. I'm tired of trying to help you! I do have homework of my own, you know! And a life! I'm not just here for you to use whenever you need me! I do have feelings!" She looked away from him again, huffing in frustration. He looked at the back of her head in bewilderment. He'd seen her angry. A lot. And he was used to being the cause of her anger and feeling the force of it. But he'd never seen her behave like this before. He opened his mouth and sputtered a bit before replying._

_"But I really, really need help with this. Please?" he begged, looking at her pleadingly. She stood up, gathering her books together. She turned to face him, tears rolling down her cheeks. Her eyes glittered with a resentment he could tell she'd been holding inside for a long time._

_"Then ask Magda! You like her better anyway!" Hermione blasted him, hugging her books tightly to her chest. "Besides . . . why would you want help from a filthy Muggle-born like me, Mr. Pure-blood prefect! I'm not half as clever as you, am I? But then, you're the one flunking half of your courses because you're too wrapped up in your wretched girlfriend to study! You're too wrapped up in her to even notice what's right under your nose!" With that she ran out of the library, leaving him scratching the top of his head in puzzlement . . ._

Ron's heart was pounding after that memory, and he ran a hand through his thick red hair. Emotions surged through his veins, fear sweeping over him. What would he do without her? He still didn't totally understand why Hermione had been so angry with him, but he knew one thing - he'd succeeded in driving away the only girl he'd ever really loved. Loved . . . it sounded strange to him at first, though he knew it was true. He loved Hermione. He always had. She was it for him. With this revelation, the wheels began to turn in his head.

"She's taking the Hogwarts' Express back to Kings Crossing, and then heading to the airport in London from there, right?" Ron questioned the couple. Ginny nodded feebly before burying her head in Harry's chest again. Harry eyed his red-haired friend suspiciously as Ron moved toward the staircase that led up to Gryffindor Tower. Ron smiled a little, a mischievous twinkle in his eye.

"I love her. I've got to stop her before I lose her forever," he said softly, then turned and bounded up the stairs three at a time. Harry's eyes widened as he moved to stop Ron. Ron had misunderstood.

"But she's only leaving . . . ," he began. He sighed defeatedly, for Ron was already long gone. "For a month," he murmured as Ginny began to giggle. She looked up at him, and he wiped the falsely shed tears from her cheeks with a grin. "Nice acting job, sweetie." He gave her a thumbs up. She giggled again, and grabbing hold of his tie, pulled him to her, kissing him gently.

"You weren't so bad yourself, Mr. Potter," she murmured in a coy tone, drawing back for a moment. "And you thought it wouldn't work!" She tweaked his nose teasingly as he grinned wider. Harry chuckled and pulled her closer to him again and kissed her more. As the kisses grew more passionate, a creak was heard from behind Harry's back. Ginny's eyes flew open, and she pushed Harry away gently as a tall, raven-haired beauty came gliding down the stairs. Harry looked at Ginny questioningly, not able to see Ron's girlfriend standing behind him. Ginny wiped her mouth, frightened, and mumbled under her breath, "Oh, Merlin . . ." Harry spun around to see what Ginny was gawking at, and his own eyes widened as Ginny slid her fingers through his, squeezing his right hand in panic. Harry took a deep breath and spoke.

"Magda . . . hi . . . ," he breathed, plastering a fake smile on his face. Ginny smiled, trying her best to look brave as Magda gave them a sarcastic, twisted smile in return . . .

  
  


Chapter 2 is on the way soon! Thanks for reading!


	2. 2: Stay

**Shiver**

**By PinkTribeChick**

_"Don't you shiver . . . shiver . . . sing it loud and clear . . . I'll always be waiting for you . . . so you know how much I need ya . . . but you never even see me, do you . . . and is this my final chance of getting you . . ."_

~Coldplay~

  
_Disclaimer: I don't own these characters, nor do I claim to! They belong to J.K. Rowling! However, Magda is entirely my own creation, so please don't steal her! Thanks!_   
  
  
  
  
  


2: Stay

_"So I turned the radio on, I turned the radio up . . . and this woman was singing my song . . . the lover's in love, and the other's run away . . . the lover is crying, 'cause the other won't stay . . ."_

~Lisa Loeb~

Standing in the middle of the Quidditch field, Ron mounted Harry's Firebolt, and with a quick push of his feet on the grass, he soared into the air. His heart felt like it was about to burst as he tried to begin thinking of what to say to her. He hovered about, hand to his chin, deep in contemplation.

"Hermione . . . I can't let you leave . . . because I'm in lo - . . . no, no . . . that sounds bloody stupid," he cursed himself. Taking a deep breath, he smiled, his eyes wide like a puppy's. "'Mione, I love you." The sound of that just disgusted him, and he made a face. He couldn't just out and say it to her. He had to sound eloquent, romantic. He sighed loudly, a low growl coming from inside his throat. Rubbing his temples, attempting to stimulate thoughts, he wished for a moment that he could be like Harry and know what to say. Or maybe, to be like Hermione - she always seemed to know what to say in every situation.

Of course, were he like either of his best friends and knew what to say, he wouldn't be in this situation right now. Had he known what to say a long time ago, when he first fell in love with Hermione - she would be in his arms right now instead of on the damn train, bound for America. How could he have been so completely daft all this time? he asked himself.

He heard the sound of a train whistle blowing in the distance. His heart lept, and he looked about momentarily until he spotted the chain of steam the Express was giving off as it chugged along several miles away. He smiled in relief and switched on the small radio he'd grabbed off his nightstand before leaving. Clipping it to his belt, music blasted forth from it, lifting his spirits. He told himself confidently that he could do this. After all, it was just Hermione, just his best friend. He'd been in love with her for almost seven years now, it was time to stop denying it. Leaning forward into the broom, he took off in the direction of the Express, hoping he could make it in time . . .

Hermione gazed out the window distantly, not really paying attention to the scenery that flashed by as the train rattled along. Her chin rested against her hand, her elbow propped up on the windowsill. Her eyes were puffy and a little red from having cried a little while ago when she'd boarded the train and taken her last look at the little train station and the silhouette of the school she'd called home for the past six and a half years. But it hadn't been so much the location that she was crying over as it was the people she would be leaving behind. Ginny, Harry, Hagrid, Dumbledore . . . Ron . . . They were home to her, not the castle itself. _He_ was home . . .

The door to the large, lavishly decorated compartment opened, and Dumbledore stepped inside, carrying two cups of tea. He pushed the door shut with his foot and walked over to Hermione with a sympathetic smile.

"I thought a little tea might soothe your anxieties about leaving," he said in his soft way. She looked up with a grateful smile at the old man, taking a cup from his hand. He looked at her with concerned eyes, and she knew what he was thinking without him ever saying it. She averted his gaze, staring back out the window.

"I know what you're going to say. You're going to say that I should have just told him. About everything. That if he really cares about me at all, he would believe me. You're going to say that he just doesn't see what's been there all along because he's him. I should stand up for myself, fight back, because I'm stronger and better than this. I should just face my fears and my feelings, instead of running from them. I need to have more faith in myself and in him," she said, her voice wavering. "And you might be right." She let out a shaky sigh, holding back the tears that were wanting to fall again. She was as pale as a ghost, with dark rings under her eyes, a tell-tale sign that she had not seen much sleep recently.

"I just do not believe that running from the situation is going to help you. I understand you feel confused and a little run down by it all, but the problem isn't going to go away just because you do, Miss Granger. Chances are, when you return to Hogwarts, the problem will still exist, and may even be worse. The longer you continue on without telling Ron everything, the more tangled up in Magda's web he will become," Dumbledore expressed gently. "The longer you continue on without telling the truth, without even being honest with yourself, the farther apart you and he will grow. And the more confused still you will become." Hermione closed her eyes, taking a tiny sip of her tea, then leaned her head against the cool glass of the window.

"Professor . . . it's just . . . I just . . . I don't know what to do anymore. This isn't something I was expecting to happen. In a million years . . . I never thought that he . . ." Her voice finally cracked with a sob. She paused, allowing the tears to flow before opening her eyes and looking up at Dumbledore. The sudden onslaught of tears brought a little color back into her cheeks. She spoke again, in spite of the sobs that now shuddered through her entire tiny frame. "I never thought I . . . Magda's just so . . . and the humiliation of her being with him, and him not even knowing . . . everyone in the world knowing . . . how I feel about him . . . and who she . . . what she is . . . everyone but him. Even she knows. And she holds . . . she holds it over my head like some kind of victory . . . like some dead animal she killed that she's proud of. She doesn't give a damn about him. While I . . . he . . ." She let out a cry of anger and longing, throwing her hands up into the air in frustration, which sent her cup of tea flying. Tea sprayed everywhere, and the cup shattered all over the floor. "He's everything to me, the dumb prat! And so I am forced to suffer because of it!" She buried her face in her hands, sobbing loudly in frustration. Dumbledore put a kind hand on her shoulder, letting her cry until she felt a little better again.

"Everything will be fine, Miss Granger, I assure you. However, you must to do the right thing, no matter how hard and frightening it may be," he explained calmly. She let out a bitter half-laugh, half-sob.

"I'm not sure I even know what the right thing is anymore," she said in a monotone, taking her hands away from her face once more and staring straight ahead into the light blue flames of the fire. "And even if I do . . . I'm not strong enough to follow through with it. And I'm just so angry at both of them that if I even had the chance to be with Ron now, I don't know if I would take it. I don't know that I want to be with someone who can make me feel this wonderful . . . and at the same time, this horrible. I never thought anyone could be so completely ignorant and naive to the true nature of someone, or so blatantly oblivious to the pain and suffering of someone they love. I'm just . . . I'm not sure about anything anymore." Tears welled up in her eyes again. Dumbledore pulled his wand from his robe, and charming the pieces of the broken cup from the floor, put the tea cup back together. It landed in his hand, and he gingerly set it down on a table nearby.

"Uncertainty is no excuse for tucking tail and running from your dilemmas. It shows a great strength of character to face your fears and fight for what you want. For as you grow older, Miss Granger, you'll find that life has little meaning unless you're happy. Doing the things you love, being surrounded by the people you love, and finding someone to love who will love you in return - this is the path that each of us must take. And none of us has the same journey," Dumbledore observed. He smiled at her fondly. "I can teach you all the spells and charms in the world, but if I do not teach you and your fellow students how to love, be loved, and find yourselves, find that which makes each of you happy, then I have failed miserably in my job." Hermione wiped away the few tears that had fallen once more and smiled back at him sadly.

"I don't know how to do that any longer, sir. I'm afraid I've lost the ability," she whispered, looking down at her hands forlornly.

Ron had almost forgotten how fast Harry's Firebolt could fly. He was from the Quidditch field to the roof of the train within a matter of five minutes. Landing as silently as he could, he moved slowly along the roof of the quickly moving train to the end of the car. Climbing down the ladder on the side with one hand, while holding the broom in the other, he paused before going inside. He flicked the radio off, not wanting to disturb anyone inside, or tip Hermione off to his presence, lest she try to run from him. Then he looked at his reflection in the window of the door and nervously smoothed down his red hair, which was wind-blown and sticking up and out wildly in every direction. He then took a deep breath and pulled the door open.

As he walked along the narrow hallway of the car, he looked into every compartment, hoping to see Hermione's beautiful, smiling face. But no such luck. As he came to the last compartment, he stopped upon hearing Dumbledore's voice.

"Miss Granger, I do not believe you've lost the ability to find love and happiness. I believe you know what you want, you've simply lost the nerve," the old professor was saying. Ron leaned over slightly and peeked into the compartment. Dumbledore stood in front of a large, crackling fireplace. Ron could just see the back of Hermione's head behind an armchair nearby.

"Perhaps," came the soft reply. The sound of Hermione's voice sent shivers up Ron's spine. This was it, this was the moment he'd been waiting for. This was the girl he loved, and nothing was going to stop him from telling her how he felt for her. He opened the door quietly, and Dumbledore saw him standing there. The professor nodded slightly and motioned for Ron to wait just a minute before making his presence known. Ron could hear Hermione's voice shaking with what she said next. "Deep down . . . I've always known Ron was the one for me . . . the last and only person I'd ever really love. I knew the first day I met him, on this train, when he and Harry were eating all that candy and he had the smudge of dirt on his nose. I knew if he could be that much of a pain in the butt, be that rude to me, and yet still be overprotective of me and caring to the point of being tender despite his rough edges, and I could still be attracted to him, still love him, then he was it. I just never expected he wouldn't feel the same way."

Ron's eyes widened in amazement. She . . . she actually loved him back? And she thought he didn't love her? How wrong she was! He let out a laugh, forgetting that she didn't yet know he was standing there.

There was a pop as Dumbledore winked at Ron, then disapparated. Hermione stood up quickly and spun to face Ron. He gulped as she glared at him crossly. Even angry, she was still the most amazing looking girl in the world. Her brown hair was piled up on top of her head in a mass of soft curls, with a few stray wisps framing her face and at the nape of her neck. She wore a simple, knee-length, coral strapless dress with a pair of black capris underneath that showed off her perfectly shaped, slim body and a hint of a tan. Over the dress, she wore a white, long-sleeved cardigan. A pair of matching coral slides adorned her small feet. His mouth fell open, and the broom slipped out of his fingers, hitting the floor with an echoing clatter. She wiped the tears from her red, puffy eyes, still glaring at him angrily.

"What are you doing here?" she snapped defensively. He moved toward her, but she backed away.

"'Mione . . . I . . . ," he spoke, moving toward her again, his arms reaching out to her slightly. She backed away a little more, fear glittering in her tear-filled eyes. She panicked, seeing him standing there in front of her in a pair of ripped up jeans and a thick, forest green sweater, his hair wind-blown and crazy, but still looking like the sexiest man she'd ever known. He'd heard her declaration of love, and she knew it. But something unfamiliar shone in his blue eyes as he mumbled an incantation under his breath. He moved toward her again, but this time, as she tried to run away, she found her feet very much stuck to the ground. She struggled, trying with all her might to budge from the spot. She looked up at him, red-faced and furious. He just grinned at her, only a couple of feet from her now, and still moving nearer.

"What . . . are you . . . doing here, Ron?!" she shouted. "And how much did you hear?!" Now he was nose to nose with her. She could feel his breath warm against her cheek, driving her crazy, as he whispered ever so softly in her ear.

"Only what I needed to," he said. Finally giving up on running, she pushed him away hard with her hands. She was fast growing desperate. The tender way he was looking at her, the gentle, passionate tone of his voice, this wasn't normal Ron behavior. He was radiating an emotion for her she honestly thought wasn't possible, and she was scared to death. He was obviously finding her fright funny as he continued to smile at her, his familiar lopsided smile, charming as ever.

"Leave! Now!" she exclaimed, frantic. She was trying to get away from him, not give in and fall for him all over again, she thought. She couldn't give in. She had to stand firm. "Leave, Ron, please!" She pushed him again, this time with such force that she lost her balance and almost toppled over. He caught her gently, and with her firmly in his grasp, he mumbled another incantation, and her feet were free once more. She leaned her head into his chest and began to sob. "Why . . . are you . . . here?" He wrapped his arms around her as she gently pummeled his chest with her fists. As he drew her closer to him, and she was intoxicated by his scent, the warmth and nearness of his body, and the tenderness of his embrace, he spoke again. She lay her head against his chest, out of breath and exhausted, still crying pitifully, as he said simply,

"I love you, 'Mione. Please . . . stay . . ."

  
  


Thanks for reading! Chapter 3: Hit Me With Your Best Shot is on the way soon! Here's a little tidbit from it!

_"Magda . . . how are you doing today?" he asked cordially. Magda descended the remainder of the steps in front of her gracefully, as though she were a spider coming upon its prey._

_"Quite well, quite well, Potter. Considering I'm stuck 'ere wis you mizerable lot zese 'olidays," she responded coolly._


	3. 3: Hit Me With Your Best Shot

**Shiver**

**By PinkTribeChick**

_"Don't you shiver . . . shiver . . . sing it loud and clear . . . I'll always be waiting for you . . . so you know how much I need ya . . . but you never even see me, do you . . . and is this my final chance of getting you . . ."_

Coldplay

_Disclaimer: I don't own these characters, nor do I claim to! They belong to J.K. Rowling! However, Magda is entirely my own creation, so please don't steal her! Thanks!_   
  


3: Hit Me With Your Best Shot

_"Well, you're a real tough cookie with a long history . . . of breaking little hearts, like the one in me . . . that's okay, let's see how you do it . . . put up your dukes, let's get down to it . . ."_

Pat Benatar

"Oh, boy," Harry murmured as Ginny clung tightly to his right hand. He breathed deeply, trying to stay as calm as possible for Ginny's sake.

"'Arree, Jinee, good afternoon," came the cold, smooth reply from Magda. She gave one of her famous fake smiles to them, which made her otherwise beautiful face twist into a laughing-hyena-like sneer. Harry gave Ginny a sideways look that more or less said "I'll handle this. Let me do all the talking." He pulled her to him protectively, smiling back at Magda as she slid a hand through her long jet-black hair, which was partially pulled up into two tight knots on the top of her head, making it look as though she had horns.

"Magda . . . how are you doing today?" he asked cordially. Magda descended the remainder of the steps in front of her gracefully, as though she were a spider coming upon its prey.

"Quite well, quite well, Potter. Considering I'm stuck 'ere wis you mizerable lot zese 'olidays," she responded coolly. She pulled her purple velvet cloak a bit more tightly about her body, shivering a little. "Zough I must say somesing to Dumbledore zee next shance I get about zee temperatures zis castle dips down to een winter. It's like an . . . 'ow you say . . . eegloo in 'ere. I don't know 'ow 'ee expects anyone to conzentrate in classes, much less practeese all zose sillee spells." Ginny snorted at this, for no one else in the school was complaining about being cold at the time. Actually, the castle was rather warm for the wintertime, many of the drafty spots having been searched out and repaired by Filch the previous summer. Harry knew what Ginny was thinking and squeezed her a little tighter to him in an attempt to keep her from saying it. However, this didn't work. Ginny was still sore about Hermione leaving, and she had a temper that rivaled her older brother's in shortness.

"I'm not a bit surprised you're cold, Magda. Considering ice runs through those veins of yours, though I don't know how, since you have no heart whatsoever. Perhaps you should try some Pepper-Up Potion," Ginny snapped. "Oh, but then you would look more like a devil than you already do with smoke coming out of your ears. And we don't want that. All you'd need then is a pitchfork to match those horns of yours and accessorize that pointed tail you manage to hide so cleverly." Magda scowled, her cheeks flushing a furious red and her nostrils flaring in a very unflattering manner, then she turned her attention back to Harry.

"I really don't know why you assoziate wis such reeff-raff, Potter, when you're such an accompleeshed wizard. You could do so much better zan a Muggle-lover like Weasley," Magda said with a superior, biting tone. Harry laughed.

"You forget . . . I am part Muggle," he said pointedly with a chuckle at her stupidity. Magda rolled her eyes and ignored this, smiling once more as though she wasn't annoyed by having to lower herself to speak to them.

"'Aave you zeen my dear, sweet Ron anywhere? I'm supposed to meet 'im in an 'our, but I got shrough writing zat letter 'ome sooner zan expected, so I sought I'd give 'im a nice zu-prise by making lunsch for zee two of us," Magda said. Her sugary sweet tone made Harry feel like gagging and Ginny's hand twitched, eager to slap her.

"A nasty surprise, more like. Bet her foul cooking would poison anyone," Ginny mumbled under her breath just loudly enough so Magda heard it. Magda scowled at Ginny again, but this time, Ginny scowled in return.

"You are an abzolute deesgraze to zee pureblooded line of wizardry, Weasley," Magda hissed, stepping closer to the couple. "You and zee rest of zat ragtaggell bunsch you call a fam'lee, along wis Potter 'ere. Even if every single member of your fam'lee lives to become 'igh-ups in the Ministry like your father, wealthy as kings, it still won't be enough to make you anysing more zan zee poor trash you've always been." Ginny pulled away from Harry and stepped closer to Magda, a look of determination on her face, her fists balled up at her sides.

"Well, at least I'm not like you. At least I don't go around dating people just because they've suddenly got lots of money and they're pureblood. Atleast I don't try to hide what I am, you prejudiced hag!" Ginny retorted angrily. Magda's eyes widened, and she moved to strike Ginny. Harry moved quickly and stepped between the two girls, facing Magda.

"If money was what I was reellee after . . . do you sink zat I would be dating Ronald? Trust me, being your brother'z girlfriend is no . . . 'ow you zay? No . . . peek-neek!" Magda shouted over Harry's shoulder, trying to push past him to get to Ginny.

Ginny looked at Magda, confused. If Magda wasn't dating her brother for the money, then why? As Ginny opened her mouth to speak again, Magda's temper boiled over, and she shoved Harry, pummeling him with her fists. It was one of the few times Harry was glad he'd had all that Quidditch training. He easily fought Magda off, and finally, out of breath and getting nowhere, she gave up. She crossed her arms over her chest, eyes narrowed at Ginny, and her upper lip quivering. Her hands were poised like claws, as though she wanted to scratch Ginny's eyes out.

"Whoa . . . whoa, there. No need to get violent," he interjected, grabbing Ginny and backing her away, still looking at Magda. "Magda, I believe you asked where Ron was?" Magda's demeanor changed at the mention of her boyfriend, and she plastered on her fake smile again.

"Oui. Do you know where I might find 'im?" she responded. As Ginny started to struggle in Harry's arms and shout nasty names at Magda, Harry clapped a hand over Ginny's mouth and answered.

"Last I saw him . . . he was down at the pitch, practicing for our next Quidditch match. Not sure where he is now, but I'd check the pitch first," Harry answered calmly, giving Ginny a stern look.

"Merci," Magda said, then swept off in a mass of cloak and flying hair toward the entrance of Hogwarts. As she disappeared, Harry let out a breath he hadn't known he was holding and turned to Ginny once again.

"What were you thinking, mouthing off to her like that?!" he exclaimed in a worried tone. "She could have hexed you into next year, Gin!" He pulled her closer to him, resting his cheek on her soft, crimson hair. Ginny buried her head in his chest, relishing in the warmth and safety of his arms, as she thought of an answer to his question.

"I was thinking . . . well, maybe if we had all stood up to her sooner, banded together . . . ," she trailed off, letting out a muffled sigh. "This wouldn't be happening. We wouldn't be having to work so hard to keep her at bay long enough for Ron to get to Hermione and tell her how he feels. We wouldn't be working with Malfoy to help Hermione. And she never would have hurt Hermione so badly in the first place." Harry kissed the top of her head, then put a hand under her chin and lifted her face so he could look into her eyes. They were filled with tears - real tears this time, not just tears shed for appearance's sake.

"I know," he responded, kissing her on the forehead. Ginny hung her head and let out a muffled sob, burying her head in his chest once more. He hugged her tightly as she cried, loving the feeling of her in his arms, never wanting the moment to end. But it had to - for now. "Ginny . . ."

"Yes, Harry?" came the quiet answer back. He sighed, a smile playing on his lips.

"As much as I love holding you in my arms right now . . . ," he paused for a moment, almost hesitating saying it, but knowing he had no choice. "We really need to get going. Find a place to hide. Because it's not going to take long for Magda to figure out we've sent her on a goose chase, and then she's going to come looking for us."

"True . . . ," Ginny replied, stepping back and looking up at him. She wore a scared expression, then a grin spread across her face. She grabbed Harry's hand, exclaiming, "We'd better hurry!" She dragged him up the stairs after her, running.

Magda stormed onto the Quidditch pitch, a streak of royal velvet and raven hair. She looked up into the sky above, shielding her eyes from the late afternoon sun as she searched for her boyfriend. There was one lone flyer above, and it didn't take much to figure out that it wasn't Ron. His hair shone like silver, and he wore expensive, forest green Quidditch apparel. Draco Malfoy.

"Draco!" she called out into the frosty air, once again pulling her cloak tighter about her person. He stopped in midair at the wretched sound of her voice and looked down, waving to her, as he groaned softly. Show time, he thought. He then swiftly flew over to where she stood and landed beside her. As wonderful as he was at lying, he couldn't stand Magda, and it was getting harder to hide it with each passing day. He took a deep breath and put on his best game face.

"Magda, my sweet!" he greeted her in a flirtatious tone, plastering a trademark charming Malfoy smirk on his face. He took her right hand and kissed it. "What are you doing out here? It's freezing cold! You'll catch your death, and then where will our Lord be? You're too valuable to the cause." Magda smiled at him in what he figured she thought to be a sexy manner - actually it just made her look like a pouting two year old - before speaking.

"Oui, oui. I know zis," she responded hastily, with a wave of her gloved hand. "I am looking for Ron. 'Ave you zeen 'im? 'Arree zaid 'ee was 'ere." She flipped her long hair haughtily over her shoulder, then touched her two "horns" to make sure they were still perfectly in place. Her actions made her look like a preening bird.

"Weasley?" Draco pretended to think for a moment, hand to his chin. "Oh, yes! He was here about ten minutes ago. He headed off to the locker rooms to take a shower. Told me to tell you . . ." He paused, as if thinking once more. "If you happened by here, looking for him, to just go on in and get him." He said the last bit slowly, savoring her expression as she registered the information.

Malfoy had to stifle a laugh as he saw the hungry, lustful look that swept over her cruel features briefly before she turned stony and cold once more. It was a well-known fact that Magda liked sex - a lot. She'd already bedded three-fourths of the boys in Slytherin, though Malfoy had managed to fight her off so far, all behind Weasley's back, but she had not been able to seduce Weasley himself. She was itching to lay Weasley, regardless of her work for Voldemort or whatever orders he might have given her, and Draco knew it. Potter's plan, or Draco's part of it anyway, worked. It was just too easy to bait her.

"Merci, Draco, dear," she chirped in a happy tone that belied her icy facial expression. Leaning forward to kiss him, she only got his cheek as he quickly turned his head to avoid her advances. True to form, even when she was supposed to be looking for her boyfriend, she never stopped trying to pursue other men. With a sigh and an angry frown, she stomped off in the direction of the locker rooms. As she left, a genuine smile finally found its way to Draco's lips, as he chuckled softly.

"Let the chase begin," he murmured, mounting his broom and kicking off the ground again, sending him soaring into the wintry skies.

Thanks for reading! _Chapter 4: Woman_ is on the way soon! Here's a little tidbit from it!

_"I love you so much," Ron whispered as he held her, smoothing her hair down and planting soft kisses on the top of her head. Hermione couldn't believe her ears. Was he actually saying what she thought he was?_

  
  


_Author's note: Well - here I am! Sorry for taking so long in getting this chapter out - but it wasn't easy to write! Mondo thanks firstly goes to my beta-readers: Tami, my best friend, thanks for just giving your thoughts in general on this chapter; Keira, my beta-reader over at Checkmated, for all your wonderful suggestions; and lastly, SeeJaye Ksenya, from Fiction Alley - this chapter never would have gotten finished if it weren't for your encouragement and suggestions - I owe you big-time! Also a big thanks goes out to those who have reviewed this story so far: thepinkflamingo, CarEtoDreaM, PaleEbony, rebecca89, Taintless, Sacred Magyck, the counter, Tinuviel Storm, and Daintress! Thanks again for reading!_


	4. 4: Woman

**Shiver**

**By PinkTribeChick**

_"Don't you shiver . . . shiver . . . sing it loud and clear . . . I'll always be waiting for you . . . so you know how much I need ya . . . but you never even see me, do you . . . and is this my final chance of getting you . . ."_

Coldplay

_Disclaimer: I don't own these characters, nor do I claim to! They belong to J.K. Rowling! However, Magda is entirely my own creation, so please don't steal her! Thanks!_  
  


4: Woman

_"Leaving your smell on my coat . . . leaving your taste on my shoulder . . . I still fail to understand what it is about this woman . . ."_

Maroon 5

"I love you so much," Ron whispered as he held her, smoothing her hair down and planting soft kisses on the top of her head. Hermione couldn't believe her ears. Was he actually saying what she thought he was? The words she had wanted so long to come from his lips were finally spilling out. Her head was spinning. As tears filled her eyes yet again, she looked up at him. "Please don't leave me, 'Mione. I need you." Looking into his eyes, she smiled, happy just to finally know he returned her love. Wiping away a single tear that slid down her cheek, Ron then cupped his hands around her face, and they both leaned in. As their lips met, Hermione let out a small whimper of surprise, all the thoughts that had been previously racing through her mind melting away. She could feel him smiling, and tears silently rolled down her cheeks, for she knew this happiness could not last.

His lips were soft and warm as they moved against hers, and she was amazed to find that he was quite adept at kissing. She hadn't expected that. His hands snaked their way around her waist, coming to rest gently on the small of her back. He pulled her a little bit closer to him, and she could feel the muscles of his chest through the sweater he wore from where her hands rested. As they continued to kiss, Hermione felt all the months worth of tension and stress slip away from her mind and body. She hadn't felt this relaxed in a very long time. She allowed herself to enjoy the moment, savor the cinnamon taste of his lips and tongue before returning to reality.

"I'm sorry . . . we can't," she said, finally pushing him away. She wiped away the tears that she'd allowed to fall while they kissed. She turned her back to him, knowing that if she even so much as looked at him while she tried to explain things, she would never make it through the speech she'd been carefully planning for months. His kiss-swollen lips formed into a frown, and he sent a hurt, confused look to her back. She loved him, so what was the problem?

"I . . . I don't understand, 'Mione," he said softly. She let out a bitter laugh, one that belied how she really felt inside about it all, and placed a hand on the mantle over the roaring fireplace.

"No . . . you don't. But then you were never one for seeing what was right in front of you the whole time," she said shakily, with a hint of a smile. They stood in silence for a few minutes, each aching inside to hold the other, before Ron's impatience got the better of him and he finally burst out,

"What are you talking about?" Confusion was etched in the lines on his skin as his forehead furrowed. Reality and fear were starting to dig anchors into Hermione's heart and mind. It was only a matter of time before Magda would realize where Ron was, and when she did . . . Hermione was terrified to think of what Magda might do. She turned to look at him, eyes brimming with tears.

"You need to go. Now. Please," Hermione whispered pleadingly. "Please go before . . ." She trailed off, turning away from him again.

"Before what? What _aren't_ you telling me?" he asked in frustration, pinching the bridge of his nose as he always did when puzzled and apprehensive.

"Please . . . just . . . go," came the response, so soft that he had to strain his ears just to be able to hear it. She then hurried back over to the chair she had been sitting in before Ron's arrival and curled up in it, pulling her knees up to her chin. She buried her head in her hands, and he could hear her sobbing softly. He stared in open-mouthed astonishment at the flames in front of him, his mind momentarily blank.

What was going on here? Why was she doing this? It just made no sense . . . he knew that she loved him. And he'd more than proven just minutes before that he loved her more than life itself. They were meant to be together - he was sure of it, and he knew she was too. Why was she pushing him away then? Maybe it just wasn't worth the effort. Maybe he'd been wrong about the whole thing. He sighed resignedly, moving toward the door to leave.

As his hand touched the handle to the compartment door and slid it open, his stubborn streak kicked in. He'd looked into her eyes - he'd seen it there. This wasn't wrong. There was no way in hell this could be wrong. And there was no way in hell he was walking out of there without atleast an explanation. She owed him that. The compartment door slammed shut once more, making Hermione flinch from her chair.

"No," he said in a quiet, firm tone that left little room for argument. He stormed over to where she sat and stood in front of her, his arms crossed defiantly over his chest.

"What?" she asked hoarsely, looking up at him. His eyes were an angry cobalt blue as he stared hard at her.

"I said no. I'm not leaving. Not until you give me one good reason why I should. And even then - I'm still not going anywhere," he said, shaking his head. Hermione opened her mouth to speak, then closed it again, only to open it once more, as though to speak, then close it yet again. Ron continued. "You can yell at me, call me whatever names you like, hit me, throw things at me . . . you can even leave the compartment yourself, but I'm staying right here." Hermione was hit with a new wave of fear as he said this, because she knew full well that he meant it and would follow through with it. She couldn't let that happen. She couldn't willingly allow Magda to come here and hurt her for the hundredth time. But how could she turn him away, turn love away?

"Please go, Ron. I'm serious . . . you don't realize what the consequences could be if you don't. And I know you don't understand why I'm doing this. If I could tell you, I would - but it's just too complicated," Hermione stated firmly. "Just go. While you still can, before it's too late." Ron shook his head again.

"Too late for what?" he asked. Hermione's mouth moved as though she was trying to form words, but no sound was coming out. "Too late for what, Hermione? Too late for me to stop you from leaving? Too late for you and I to be together? Too late for me to get away from you, which I can assure you I have no wish to do, because you are the most important thing in my life? What is it? Come on, out with it!" He was angry now, and his words were sparking anger within her. Her cheeks were growing red and her breaths huffy.

"Why do _I_ need to leave the girl I love more than life itself? Why should I let _her_ leave? What good reason could there be? Because you see - THERE ISN'T ONE!" he shouted, bending over and getting up in her face, giving her no space to move. "Just give me one good reason . . . one decent, logical, SANE reason . . ." He saw her jaw clench at this, as a fresh set of tears filled her eyes.

"BECAUSE WHEN MAGDA FINDS OUT THAT YOU'RE GONE AND FINDS OUT WHERE YOU ARE, SHE'S GOING TO COME HERE AND KILL ME! AND I DON'T MEAN THAT IN A METAPHORIC SENSE! I MEAN SHE'S LITERALLY GOING TO _KILL ME_!" Hermione exploded, pushing Ron. He fell back on his behind as he looked at her in astonishment. His face paled, and his eyes widened in disbelief. She hung her head, sobbing again.

"W-what? What are you on, 'Mione? She would never hurt a fly . . . ," he trailed off at that, not even entirely believing his own words, remembering what Ginny had said that morning to him about Magda. _"That bullying, ice-hearted, Slytherin fanny-flange of a girlfriend of yours!"_ Was it possible that she was right? That Ginny, Hermione, Harry, and everyone else knew something about Magda that he didn't? It just didn't seem real. Hermione pushed herself up off the chair and headed toward the door. She stopped momentarily, giving him one last glance.

"Like I said . . . you never were one for seeing what was right in front of you the whole time, Ron," she said icily. She turned to leave, sliding the compartment door open.

Ron scrambled to his feet and rushed over to her, grabbing her left wrist to stop her from leaving. As he did so, she tried to wrench herself from his grip and let out an anguished cry of pain. Startled, he let go of her wrist as she crumpled to the floor, clutching her arm. He knelt beside her as she rocked back and forth, breathing slowly through the hurt.

"Hermione?" he questioned in concern, gently brushing her hair back from her face. Her eyes were squeezed tightly shut, as though she was in agony. He reached forward and gingerly took her injured arm in his hands. He pulled her sleeve up slightly to massage her wrist, looking at her worriedly. But as he looked down to her arm, he suddenly understood why she had whimpered at his grasp before.

On her wrist was a large, deep purple bruise, one that he couldn't have caused by simply grabbing her wrist moments before. Her eyes were open now, and he could hear her taking in shaky breaths as he followed the bruise up her arm, rolling up the sleeve of her cardigan, following the trail of deep bruises that seemed to go all the way up to her shoulder. She leaned into him, weeping softly, as he tenderly removed her cardigan from her body, revealing still more bruises. Looking at them, he guessed they probably went beyond this, to where her dress and pants covered her skin. Tears filled his eyes at the sight of them, hundreds of bruises, some purple and newer, others a faded green and old. In addition to this, along her back, there were scratches that had obviously been made by someone's fingernails, some of them were freshly scabbed over, while others were raised scars.

He ran his hand softly over the scars, tears running down his face. Hermione buried her head in his chest, and he pulled her to him, rocking her in his arms. The only words he could get out were pointless, for he already knew the answer. But he asked anyway.

"Who did this to you?"

Thanks for reading! _Chapter 5_ is on the way soon! I don't have a tidbit written for it yet, but I can give you some hints as to what happens in it!

_Coming up: Hermione's startling confession about the source of her bruises . . . another argument between Hermione and Ron . . . Magda's on a major goose chase, and what she finds in the locker room is barely funny! And finally the revelation we've all been waiting for - the train arrives at the station - will Hermione stay or will she go?_

  
  


_Author's note: Well - here I am! This chapter didn't take as much time as I thought it would, amazingly! Going into it, I felt incredibly overwhelmed, and I thought it was going to be another 6 months before I got it done, because of what happens in it! But once I got going - I found it pretty easy to write! Mondo thanks firstly goes to my beta-readers: SeeJaye Ksenya, from Fiction Alley, and Keira, my beta-reader over at Checkmated! Also a big thanks goes out to those who have reviewed Chapter 3: Jessie, KitKat001, Hermione, and sunnysweetie! Thanks again for reading!_


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